Packed Up and Shipped Out
by nuclears
Summary: Massie was the most beautiful, popular, and hated Senior ever to walk the halls of Jamestown High, and she hated every moment of it, so the news of being sent to OCD in NY was a blessing to her. She never expected, however, to meet the most fake, loyal, backstabbing, and unique people that she'd ever meet, especially a brown-eyed soccer boy more unique than the rest. Massington/AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Massie was the most beautiful, popular, hated, and admired Senior ever to walk the halls of Jamestown High, and she hated every moment of it with a passion, so when she received news that she was being sent to a prestigious boarding school in New York, she saw it as a blessing in disguise. She never expected, however, to meet the most fake, loyal, backstabbing, and unique people that she had ever met, a brown-eyed soccer player at the top of the list of the individuals who threw her off her game completely. **

**I do not own the clique. **

Massie Block was laying back on an expensive red-velvet couch in one of her fathers three living rooms, her amber eyes closed as an old Queen song vibrated through the golden headphones she had plugged into her ears. The phone the music came from was on "Do Not Disturb," wanting to shut out the binging vibrations of her 'friends' trying to fawn over her, already having received thirty-five since she had arrived home. Her bracelet-clad fingers strummed against the leg of her dark-wash designer skinny jeans, the dark color making her unusually long legs look even longer, something that hadn't gone unnoticed by the men at her school, they always loving to flirt with the trophy of Jamestown.

Massie was perfect in every way a girl could be perfect-she had light, glossy brown hair that had a near-gold sheen in sunlight, running in thick waves to her slender waist, curved inwards perfectly at the hips. Her closed eyes were a golden-amber color that many could only attain with contacts, eyes that seemed to be always amused and intelligent, never missing a trick. Her face was perfectly symmetrical, nose perfect, skin light, lips pink and heart-shaped. She was flawless, the only thing to be used against her was that she was tall enough to hover slightly over men while wearing heels-not that anyone would ever go against her. They were afraid of her, though she had never done anything too cruel, and they admired her for the money her father had.

Mr. Block was a surgeon, and he was rich in the way that he, Massie, Massie's future children, and Massie's future grandchildren could retire that very moment, and live like kings. He wouldn't dare quit work, of course-to him, he could never become _too _rich, made obvious by the unnecessarily luxurious furniture and trinkets scattered about the house, a house cleaned twice a day by cleaning women. He had two different maids each day every week, all beautiful-all of the women he employed _had _to be stunning so that he could watch them while they worked and smile at what he saw as he watched. They were all attracted to his money (though, with a daughter as beautiful as Massie, he had to be-and was-at least a _little _attractive for a man of his age), and many of them had allowed him to seduce them. They believed that he would love them after they had made love, wanting to live as richly as he and Massie, but he never loved them.

Only Massie understood the why of why he slept with and hired them-they were beautiful, but they all were blonde. No matter how beautiful, he would never bed a brunette woman, and the reason was simple: Massie's mother. When she lived, she had light blonde hair, and Mr. Block had fallen hard for her even before their first date. She had his heart still even in her death, and he in return tried to search for someone enough like her to fill the void, something Massie hated-though she understood, she didn't approve in the slightest, and was always annoyed when she noticed.

She was too absorbed in her music to notice the maid come into the living room she was in, the song playing a bit too loud for her to hear the clicking of her black heels against the hardwood floors approaching her, silenced when her feet encountered an expensive rug from India, priced more expensively than a SUV. The maid lightly shook Massie's shoulder, then took a step back as though the eighteen-year-old girl would yell for waking her. Massie only blinked her amber eyes open calmly, pulling the headphones away so her hearing would improve, sitting up and adjusting the loose silk tank top. "Miss Block," The maid pursed her lips to spread the perfect red lipstick she had on, no doubt to impress the male resident of the house. "Edward would like to request an audience for you within the hour."

Massie arched her eyebrow at the first-name basis the maid had with her father, but only nodded slightly, brushing away some of the soft-brown strands of long hair that had stuck to the glossy substance her personal maid had applied to her in the morning-she knew how to do her own makeup, but it pleased her father when she used her personal maid's assistance frequently as possible.

"I'm free now-can I see him?"

"As you wish." The maid led Massie out of the room, Massie smiling softly as a reference to the Princess Bride swirled into her mind, wishing she had someone with interests close enough to hers that she could voice the comment to. Though she had lived in Seattle for the whole of her life, she had always held a small disdain for the residents her age. Even when she was young, the people around her tried much too hard to attain her friendship, believing that they would receive gifts and fame if they became close to her. She had always been intelligent, and she had always known that they were fake near her, something that had caused her to never value them as friends. Even with her distance, she was always at the top of the social scene, only receiving more attention when she became more beautiful. It was true that she enjoyed clothes and popularity to a small extent, but nowhere near the extent of the multi-million dollar wardrobe and the mindless followers she had attained.

"Massie," The 50-year old surgeon looked up at his daughter, a mysterious smile playing over his appearingly young face. "Why don't you sit down?"

Massie followed his instructions, sitting down on a sofa seeming more for style than for comfort, the boxy shape fitting in with the futuristic interior of his computer room. The room was massive, and a wonder it could be classified as a single room, spanning out longer than most small houses were. "So, what is it?"

"I wanted to give you a present." Mr. Block snapped his fingers, the loud sound signaling a maid, this time with hair a lighter shade of blonde than the first to come and pick up an elaborately wrapped silver box, wrapped like a tall shoebox with a top she could easily pick up. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, and she refrained from opening the box laid on her lap, quieting her curiosity. "It's a gift for your perfect grades last quarter, and I wanted to reward you."

"It's very light," she noticed, wondering what so light would be placed in a box half the size of her chest.

"Indeed, it is." He nodded, and she recognized the symbol to open it.

She lifted the top, seeing only the foam packing peanuts she loved when she was a child-under her request, Mr. Block had even ordered a box five feet long and wide, and three feet tall, filled with them for her to play in. "Oh...thank you." she said, a bit more confused than disappointed.

Her father chuckled, shaking his head. "Under the packaging." Massie's slender hands pushed some of the foam packaging away, reaching into the box and searching blindly until her elegant fingers curled around some glossy paper, causing her to frown, pulling it out.

In her pink-painted fingers laid a brochure, colored turquoise and white. She read the lettering on the front, confused as her eyes scanned the length of the front page of the brochure.

_Octavian Country Day Boarding School_

_New York, New York_

"OCD?" she asked, wondering briefly if her father thought she had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and wanted to send her to a boarding school to help her, the thought dismissed as she opened the pages of the brochure.

Apparently, Octavian Country Day was a uniformed boarding school in New York, one of the most expensive in the country, with courses in horseback riding, archery, Japanese, culinary arts, and about any other prestigious activity that one could ever want. The mens varsity soccer team was a legend, the cheer program top-notch, and the mixed-martial arts program was one of the most rewarding in the country. It was the type of school that most teenagers would hold as a dream destination, one that even Massie couldn't help but be interested in.

"If you'd like-" he couldn't complete his sentence, for Massie had crossed the room and hugged him in a way she hadn't done for half a decade. To Massie, this news was like an angels blessing-this was her escape, and this was her fresh start to find people true to who they were.

.

**The first chapter is done! What do you think?**

**Also, for anyone who likes/is interested in RPing, I have the hugest of huge favor to ask: I created a Clique RP, and was looking for people to join, and a few people to be moderators for the forum. If you're interested, could you PM me/review saying you are/click the link in my bio? Only Derrick is taken, because he's my favorite, but all other characters are still open. Again, the link is in my bio, and anyone who joins gets a basket of muffins and hugs :D**

**Review, please, and tell me what you think/if I should continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's a second chapter-I had an idea for it, and didn't want to wait for another week to put it up. **

**Also, I've received multiple review telling me that Massie's father's name is William. I am aware of that, but because I changed her plot line for her parents, along with her father's personality, I wanted to change his name. In this story, her parents are different people completely, and the people who her parents are and were will impact the later plot. **

**Aghakslskaksnsncowsjinfein aaaaah thank you oodles for the reviews-they made me happy. **

**I still don't own the clique. **

Derrick Harrington tiredly peeled off his uniform sticking to his lightly muscled body with sweat, noticing a grassy stain up the side from the ground he had played on, jamming it into his locker rather than taking it home to wash, a bit too uncaring for that. His best friend, Cam, was droning on about a date he had planned for Claire, but the excited rants fell on dead ears, Derrick only catching something about a "two month anniversary," and "likes Italian food." he nodded every once in a while to give off the impression he was listening, but truly, he couldn't give a damn about Claire or Cam's relationship. He had nothing against either of them, but they became annoyingly in love whenever they were near each other, texting each other, or thinking of each other-which was constantly.

He wasn't too sure exactly what annoyed him so much about Claire and Cam-he had had plenty of girlfriends in the past, and had a current girlfriend at OCD by the name of Olivia, but she was nowhere near as crazy for her as she was for him. She loved to cling on to him, and parade him around the halls of Octavian Country Day in an annoyingly overzealous fashion.

The same phenomenon had happened with every girl he had happened to date-they always acted fake around him because they wanted to keep him on their arm, he being a sort of trophy of popularity. Looking at Derrick, it wasn't hard to tell why-he was attractive in the way that caused women to fall for him without even meeting him, and in a way that drew attention from girls in relationships on the streets, this having caused him more than a few fights with jealous men.

Derrick Harrington had blue eyes, eyes a dark color that looked like the sea at storm in sunlight, always traitor to his every emotion played over them. His hair was wavy and light blonde, long enough to fall in his eyes, his hair covering a small white scar on his forehead he received from unsealed stitches, making him even more ruggedly handsome than he already was. He had tanned skin that made his straight white teeth stand out, giving him a charming smile that few could resist.

Still mentally comparing his flat relationship with the fake Olivia Ryan to the one of Cam and Claire, he tried a bit harder to focus on his best friend as he pulled on a white button down, a white button down and place slacks or jeans being the uniform for the men of OCD.

"Why don't you do it at midnight?" Derrick asked after figuring out Cam was speaking of a picnic with homemade Italian food for their two-month anniversary. "You can drive her to Central Park and blindfold her, and lead her to a starry picnic illuminated by the night sky and street lights." He refrained from mentioning that the picture he had painted wasn't too far from the way he planned on taking the girl of his dreams on their first date, but what was the point in saving it for himself? He wasn't going to find that girl anywhere at OCD, so it would better be used on Cam.

"Midnight picnic? Are you going soft, Harrington?"

"I'm always soft for you, Fisher," Derrick told him with a wink, Cam unable to keep from laughing as the two soccer players slung their backpacks over their shoulder and headed out of the men's locker room, Derrick grinning too. This was Derrick's favorite side of his friend, the reason they had been the closest of friends since before either of them could form a coherent sentence.

"I think Claire may have some competition for my attention,"

"That's a fair duel."

Cam soon parted ways with Derrick, but he wasn't alone for too long before approached by a bouncing blonde girl, looking as though her smile was about to split her face in half.

"Derry!" _God, I hate that name, _"Guess what's different about me?"

Derrick looked over his girlfriend for a short moment. "Did you get a haircut?"

"No, silly. I got my nose done again, see? This one is a model a.12. How do you like it?" he wanted to ask her if getting so many nose jobs could lead to a risk of her nose falling off completely, but refrained for fear of Olivia making a scene, instead wrapping a toned arm around her and walking.

"You look great, babe, but you'd look stunning with any nose." He nearly cringed as the words passed through his lips-where did _that _come from? She didn't seem to mind, though, and kissed him on his lips as they walked, she bumping into a girl with red hair and purple glasses.

"Watch it, loser."

"Why don't you, Duh-Livia?" He heard a voice he recognized by a girl he knew well, one of his close female friends at OCD.

Kristen Gregory was the best female soccer player at OCD, and one of the most popular girls in the school, the reason that everybody seemed to fawn over the prospect of she and him hooking up. Everybody believed that the two popular star soccer players would be a perfect match, and while it was true on the surface, he had drunkenly hooked up with her twice, and he had felt less chemistry with her than his tongue felt with a flat soda.

While it was true that Kristen was hot, he wasn't too attracted to any of the members of the Pretty Committee-he had kissed or dated all of them but Claire, and he knew that he wouldn't be attracted to _her_-like every other guy seemed to be, never attracted to Alicia's breasts, Dylan's fame, Claire's kindness, or Kristen's personality, traits every other guy seemed to be infatuated by.

"Because I'm not the one smashing into people like a retard on skates."

"Actually, you kind of are." Derrick knew that Kristen had no actual intention of sticking up for the girl with the purple glasses, but rather that she had found an opportunity to pick a fight with Olivia.

"Excuse me? How?"

"Let me see-public displays of affection plus walking equals a clumsy LBR." Kristen said, feigning shock after the words passed her glossy lips. Derrick could smell them from where he stood-they smelled like artificial apples, a scent he was never too fond of, "Oh wait, I'm sorry, I forgot-you don't understand simple addition."

"Ladies," Derrick interrupted quickly, seeing something flash in both of their eyes that made him a bit nervous. "Let's try to stay calm here. Olivia, we're not going to catch the movie if we don't leave now."

"All right, then-have fun at the movies, Derry. Tell me what it's about tomorrow?" Kristen winked at him, making Olivia's new nostrils flare dangerously at Kristen's flirting with her boyfriend.

All of Derrick's girlfriends shared a protective feeling over him-to them, he was their property, and not allowed to speak to or flirt with other girls. As Derrick pulled Olivia's hand into his and walked her away from Kristen, he wondered for not the first time why he dated so often when all of them seemed to be a plastic, carbon copy of the other. He had always expected each girl to be different, but they never were-they were always attracted to the Tomahawks goalie for his looks and social status, and never cared to see what was deeper inside him.

**Whew! Chapter two done!**

**Luv2Live Live2Luv: OCD is different because in this story, it is more prestigious and exclusive both. There are uniforms because it is a boarding school, and it is one where you may live at the school, and you may also live at a home in the district with your legal guardians.**

**I'm so glad that a few people joined my forum from this-you guys are awesome-sauce. I still need people to play Alicia, Claire, Josh, Dempsey, and Chris (many more are available, but those are the most needed), so anyone interested is encouraged x 10 to join.**

**I love all my reviewers!**


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own the Clique.

Massie pulled her purple suitcase down the grey carpeted aisles of the large plain, she being seated in first class. The leather chairs came in pairs, and she glanced back down at her ticket to see which seat she was supposed to fall in to. She still had another few months to her eighteenth birthday, and therefore was classified as an unaccompanied minor, and was escorted on to the plane as the last person so that the staff could keep an eye on her.

She looked up, finding the seat she was assigned to, amber eyes drawn to the boy her age sitting in the seat paired with hers.

He was olive skinned and red-lipped, but oddly enough, the first thing Massie noticed about him were his eyelashes, long and thick. They reminded her of the fake eyelashes so many girls liked to wear, making her wonder if the Ralph Lauren-clad man was wearing men's makeup-his lips seemed to be too glossy and red and eyelashes too plentiful to be natural, but the prospect was unlikely once she thought more about it.

When Massie slipped into the seat, his deep brown eyes locked with hers immediately, looking as though he hadn't noticed her at first. His eyes ran up and down her body, lingering on the Guess label on her jeans before smiling in what seemed to be an approving fashion.

"Josh Hotz." She blinked, finding it a strange last name and a strange way for the Spanish boy to introduce himself.

"I'm Massie Block."

"So, Massie Block, do you live in New York, or are you going on a vacation two days after school begins?"

"Neither-I'm transferring to a boarding school in Westchester."

"OCD?"

"Yeah-how did you know?" She asked, Josh shrugging his shoulders lightly. The plane hadn't taken off yet, allowing him to send a quick text, Massie catching the names Fisher and Harrington before he slid his phone back into his slacks.

"You're wearing designer clothes, sitting in first class, and headed for my hometown. It's obvious you're wealthy, and OCD is the most expensive boarding school in New York," He flashed Massie a white-toothed grin, "Plus, I'm your fellow Tomahawk."

"Toma-what?"

"Tomahawk. You really need to do some reading on OCD, Mass." It wasn't a nickname she had been given before, but she didn't mind it very much, and only smiled at the easy nickname he had given her.

"Why read when strangers can analyze your clothing and explain to you what Tomahawks are?"

Josh smiled again, and the two of them launched into a conversation about the school symbol, the conversation trickling into Josh's sport, soccer, as the plane took off. Apparently, Josh played soccer with close friends named Cam, Dempsey, Plovert, and Derrick, Derrick being the star goalie of the soccer team.

"Your friends have strange names," she noted, pulling out a stack of cinnamon gum and chewing it so that her ears wouldn't pop. After a lesson in health about how sugar-free gum caused rotting of the teeth and cancer in the gums, she had always chewed cinnamon-flavored with real sugars, concerned about her health.

"Nah-Cam's name is Cameron, Derrick's name is only spelled weirdly, Plovert's first name is Chris, and Dempsey...has no excuse."

"Does anyone call them by their real names, or are nicknames a thing at OCD?"

"Cam's girlfriend calls him Cameron-some term of endearment. She's a weird girl. She's sweet, and dresses like a little kid sometimes, but she's part of this weird clique called the Pretty Committee."

"The Pretty Committee?"

Josh's brown eyes lit up, looking at a small child who had been given a treat. Though there was no one close to their age around them, he leaned a bit closer to her with a low voice, obviously about to transfer to her some gossip about the group with the ridiculous-and a bit conceited-name.

"The Pretty Committee is a group of four girls who seem to rule over the school-all of the guys are interested in them, and all the girls hate them, but want to be them. It's shortened to the PC. Alicia Rivera, the hottest girl at OCD is the alpha. She also can be the nastiest, and she's the one the rest of her group looks up to. She always tries to be the hottest-which she succeeds at-or the center of attention, and between us," he lowered his voice an octave, "She's a great kisser. Her beta is Dylan Marvil, and yes, the Dylan Marvil, son of Meril-Lee Marvil. She's famous, but she's really freaked out about diets and loosing weight constantly, and can act like a total bitch when she's on one of them. After her is Kristen Gregory, the blonde athlete with the poor family. According to Alicia, she's only at OCD on scholarship. She gets A's in all her classes, and is an amazing soccer player. Cam's girlfriend, Claire Lyons, comes in last. It's partially because of her young habits of dressing, partially because she can be a prude, and partially because she was the last to join them."

Massie committed everything he said to memory, watching as he pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of four close girls at the beach together, able to differentiate them by their descriptions. Looking back at Josh, she nodded, blowing a bubble with her gum expertly.

"You seem to know a lot of gossip."

"I haven't even gotten started."

For the next hours, he spoke of his own friends, obviously fond of them. They had their own clique (The Briarwood Boys), and they had an alpha just like the Pretty Committee did: Derrick Harrington. Apparently, Derrick was a tall blonde, extremely good at soccer, and extremely promiscuous. Derrick's best friend was Cam, a sweet guy with multicolored eyes. Next came Josh, and then Dempsey, who was both environment friendly and intelligent. Plovert was perverted, the main thing Josh had to say for his friend. He went on to talk about who from the Pretty Committee and the Briarwood Boys had hooked up, what traditions were held at the school, what clubs were available to join, and so forth, Massie still listening to the excitedly talking Spanish boy, accepting his offer to sit with his clique at lunchtime. She had to admit that Josh's group seemed much more diverse and exciting than anything she had seen at Jefferson, and though she didn't want to be swept into a popular crowd again, the boys seemed much better than having no one.

When it was time for Massie to take her leave and exchange numbers with Josh, she was extremely surprised by how much she had in common with the gossiping boy. She had never quite met someone with so unique a personality as his, and she had talked with him for hours without even realizing how the time had gone by. Massie had even received a text message from him on her walk down the halls of the dorms, searching for the seventeenth room. She had texted him back quickly, telling him she would talk after she had found her room and unpacked.

She turned the silver key in the knob, the door opening without a creak. Though she had known that she would have a roommate, the girl she saw was far from the last roommate she was expecting to see.

The girl had dark brown eyes accented by perfect mascara and eyeliner, her olive skin flawless and unneeding of any foundation, lips glossed a ruby color. She wore a red Ralph Lauren dress that matched her lips and Steve Maddens that came up to her ankle with a wedge heel, showing off her long, olive legs. The dress was low enough to show clevage, something the Spanish beauty had a lot of. Her dark hair was curled perfectly, and she didn't look up at Massie from painting her long, oval nails red when the amber-eyed girl walked in. Brushing it against her little finger a final time, her lips curled into a mysterious smile,

"Hello-I'll assume you're Massie Block. My name is Alicia Rivera."

That was kind of short, but the next chapter will be long to make up for it.

Whew! That was fun to write, and before you ask, I intentionally had Massie meet a Briarwood boy before a PC girl, and no guy gossips like Josh ;D

On the forum, Josh, Dempsey, and Chris/Plovert are still open :D

Review, and I'll love you forever *blows kiss*


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